by Laken Cane
“Oh hell, Strad.”
“Yeah.” He pointed his chin at Gunnar. “He’s watching you.”
She turned to look at the ghoul, then fell to her knees beside his broken body when she saw him staring at her with a tortured desperation. “What can I do for you, baby?”
Jack had pulled his wrist away and was sitting back on his heels, watching, ready to lend more blood if it was needed.
“Unbend me,” Gunnar said, his voice still rusty, still weak, but stronger than it had been. “So the blood can reach my constricted parts.”
Shit.
She glanced at Jack. “Help me.”
But when she and Jack tried to pull one of Gunnar’s legs from beneath him, his hoarse, agonized screams echoed through Wormwood.
She let go of his leg and closed her eyes against his pain. “God, Gunnar.”
Jack reached across Gunnar’s contorted body and squeezed her hand. “Back away, Rune. I’ve got this.”
He stood, and before she could understand what he was about to do and make him fucking stop, he leaned over and plucked Gunnar from the box.
The berserker helped Jack, forcing the frozen, broken limbs straight while Jack held the tormented ghoul.
She flinched at the sounds of his cracking bones—her men had to re-break bones that had attempted to knit in their unnatural positions. Gunnar’s face was turned toward her, and he watched her with a weary but fierce anguish in his eyes even as he shrieked.
That image would be imprinted upon her mind for a long, long time to come. The sounds of his screams and snapping bones would join the other voices and horrors in her nightmares.
The raw, brutal cruelty of the assassin would stay with her as well as she sought him out. As she gave him the bite that would end him.
She didn’t always get the enemy.
She’d get that one.
Except…if she left him alive with his addiction, there could be no better punishment. Eventually, he’d have to kill himself.
Either way, the assassin would suffer.
Gunnar’s shrieks became moans, and his gaze never once left her face. She stood at his side, unwilling to turn away from his pain. She owed him that.
She took his hand and caressed his long, stiff fingers, silently begging Strad and Jack to hurry.
After an eternity, her men eased Gunnar to the ground. The berserker grabbed the metal box, flinging it away with a rage-filled roar.
“Water,” Gunnar said, his eyes averted, as though his requirements were shameful.
“Water?” Rune asked.
“To wash away the salt,” he whispered. “It continues to weaken me. I cannot leave Wormwood until it is gone.”
Rune nodded. “There’s a stream. One of you carry him. Follow me.” The memory-wiped shifter would have to wait until she took care of Gunnar.
Jack picked up the ghoul, and Rune trotted ahead of them, leading the way to the stream. The berserker followed behind, a menacing guard. If the assassin were stupid enough to attack, Strad would be ready.
She turned to Jack once they reached the stream, her hand on Gunnar’s arm, squeezing gently. “Lower him in, Jack. Careful that you don’t—”
“Your Horror, please,” Gunnar said politely. “Move.”
Strad stepped up behind her as she watched. He cleared his throat. “Rune.”
She glanced at him, then looked back at Gunnar and Jack. “Yeah?”
“I’m going to put my arms around you.”
She continued to stare at Gunnar and Jack as the ghoul got his water, but for an instant, she didn’t see them. Her mind was frozen on Strad’s words. “I won’t attack you if you touch me, Berserker.”
She didn’t want to change. She didn’t want the way her crew treated her to change. But the fucking church had guaranteed both those things to happen.
It was for that reason that she stiffened when Strad moved behind her and wrapped his big arms around her, pulling her back against his chest.
Anger streaked through her. Anger, hurt, grief.
COS had destroyed part of her. Had destroyed part of Levi.
But the berserker was warm and he was safe. He was.
He had to be.
Gunnar cried out again, full of relief and joy as the spiteful salt was washed away. He disappeared, and when he resurfaced he spat out a mouthful of water.
He splashed and kicked randomly and weakly, like a baby might, but his movements became stronger as he continued to heal.
He was old, and he was strong.
The ghoul would be okay.
She knelt at the water’s edge. “I have to go, baby.”
For an instant she saw fear spark in his dark eyes, but then he nodded. “I will be more careful, Your Liberatorness.”
She hesitated. “How did he do it, Gunnar? How did the assassin capture you?”
He lowered his gaze. “He is sly. He is wily.”
And Gunnar, for all his age and knowledge, wore innocence like a cloak.
“If it’s any consolation, he’s suffering greatly,” she told the ghoul. “He will suffer until he’s dead.”
He frowned, ducked his head beneath the water, then resurfaced. “But that is all he knows. He is a master of suffering.”
She smiled. “Not this kind. He’s addicted to my bite.”
“I see. That is a new level of suffering, even for that one.”
She nodded and stood. “I’ll be back to check on you.”
“I’ll stay in the water until I have healed.” He did not look at Jack, instead staring at the sky as he spoke to him. “I am grateful for your blood.”
Jack grinned. “You’re welcome.”
She turned to go, the two men at her side, but Gunnar’s voice, a little too squeaky, stopped her.
“I may leave Wormwood, Your Highness. I may travel to a less populated graveyard.”
Her heart dropped to the ground. “No, Gunnar.”
He looked away. “I may.”
Strad took her arm. “Let’s go, sweetheart.”
“I’ll bring you candy,” she called. “Don’t go anywhere yet. I’ll be back with chocolate.”
And if her need to keep him close was selfish, that was just the way it was.
Once they were outside Wormwood, Strad stood at his car door making a phone call, and Jack walked with her to her car.
They stared into the darkening sky, both of them lost in their thoughts. Then, “Let’s go get you some coffee,” Jack said.
“Yes. I need coffee. You coming to the Annex?”
“I’ll follow you there.”
“Rune,” Strad called, as she started to climb into her car. “Ellis will have dinner and coffee waiting for you at the Annex.”
“You’re not coming?”
He shook his head. “I’ve been called to sort out a situation in Willowburg.”
“Take Lex for backup,” she told him.
And with Jack following behind her, she drove to the Annex.
She had a feeling the night was going to be as crazy as the day had been.
Chapter Sixteen
“I’ll be back to eat,” she told Ellie, and snatched the coffee he held out for her as she sailed by him on her way to see Elizabeth. “Thanks, baby.”
Elizabeth was waiting for her, pacing the floor. “Good, you’re here. He won’t talk to anyone else.”
She strode down the hall, her heels clacking with a nervous speed that made Rune frown. Elizabeth was not often agitated—and even when she was, she hid it well.
“Strad said the shifter is dying,” she said.
“I believe he is,” Elizabeth offered, not slowing her brisk pace. “The other shifters are unchanged. They haven’t remembered anything, though.”
“How could the act of remembering kill him?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t know. Here we are. Let’s see what we can get out of him before he is unable to speak.”
Rune touched her arm before she went into the roo
m. “Do you have any news about Fie?”
But Elizabeth wasn’t ready to talk about the child. “No.” She put her hand to the pad on the wall and the door slid open noiselessly.
“And Owen?”
Elizabeth’s smile was slight and tired. “Owen will be fine.”
The shifter was alone in the room—a large room that had been set up to resemble a studio apartment, complete with a kitchenette and a bathroom.
He sat on the sofa, staring at a mural of a forest that took up one entire wall. It was very well done. She could almost believe the picture was a beautiful view outside a window. Almost.
“Do you know his name?” she asked Elizabeth.
“Edward,” he said, causing both Rune and Elizabeth to jump in surprise. “My name is Edward. Edward…” He frowned, then turned to face them. “Edward…” He stood and put his fingers to his temples. “Edward…”
“Shhh,” Elizabeth said. “It isn’t important, Edward.”
But Rune knew it was very important. Important to the shifter. He needed to know his last name. “Hi, Edward. Do you remember me?”
“Of course,” he said. He’d lost weight. His face was hollow and sharp, his eyes too large. His jumpsuit was clean, but hung on his skeletal frame. “I have to talk to you.”
She nodded. “I’m listening.”
“They want the girl.”
“You told me that when I brought you here.”
He frowned. “I did? Yes. Yes, I remember. I did.” He swiped at his nose, which had begun to bleed.
Rune shot a look at Elizabeth.
“Are you okay to talk, Edward?” Elizabeth asked him.
He walked to Rune and stood too close to her, his stare intent. “You’re her,” he said.
“I’m the girl they want?”
His smile was a little sad. “No. We hid the girl they want. You have to help her.”
“I will, but I have to know where she is.”
“Can you tell us that, Edward?” Elizabeth kept her voice gentle, but impatience sparked in her eyes.
“Don’t speak to me like I’m an imbecile,” he snapped, his sudden anger disorienting. “They took my memory, not my…my…”
Rune touched his cheek, turning his face toward her. “Tell me where the girl is.”
“I had to tell you something. Where did it go?”
“Concentrate, Edward. Picture her face.”
“She’s a little girl,” he said. “She’s nice. She’s scared. Her eyes are closed. No. Not closed. Blindfolded.” He smiled at Rune, then licked absently at the blood that had leaked from nose and gathered in a line between his lips.
“That’s good,” she said, watching the blood as it slid from the corners of his mouth. “That’s great. What’s her name?”
“Megan,” he said instantly, then gaped in surprise. “I didn’t realize I knew that.”
Rune looked at Elizabeth. “Megan is the missing werefox.”
“God,” the shifter screamed, and pressed the heels of his hands so violently into his eyes Rune was afraid he’d blind himself.
She grabbed his wrists and forced his hands down. “Edward?”
“It hurts,” he whispered. “So bad. So bad.” He leaned forward and threw up.
She didn’t move, just let him vomit his pain onto her shoes. She was weary of others’ pain, sick of being helpless in the face of it.
She stared over his head at the mural, the stupid fucking mural, trying to tramp down the rage that arose inside her like the stench from the shifter’s bloody, gushing vomit.
At last, he stopped and straightened, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
She steadied him as he listed to the side. “Get him some water, Elizabeth.”
“I’m a dead man,” he said. “I have to remember. There’s something I have to tell you.”
“You need to tell me where Megan is, Edward.”
“We hid her from the pikes. But they’ll find her.” Again, his eyes widened.
He covered his mouth and stumbled back, groaning in agony, his gaze turned inward as he glimpsed a horror only he could see. “Jars!” he screamed. “Jars and jars and jars…”
She grabbed his shoulders, halting his lurching body, and shook him hard. His head flopped on his neck. “Where, Edward? Where the fuck are they?”
His eyes filled with blood. “In the lab,” he whispered, and then he fell to the floor and died.
Chapter Seventeen
“What we know,” Elizabeth said, sitting with Rune and Bill Rice at a conference room table, “is that the pike alpha is somehow involved. There’s a lab. And Megan Smith is being held there. I’ve already got people on it.”
“I have to find the pikes. And I need to talk to Megan’s mother again,” Rune said. “She might know more than she’s even aware of.”
Bill and Elizabeth exchanged a quick look.
“What?” Rune leaned forward and watched them, her eyes narrow. “What is it?”
Bill cleared his throat. “Rune, Eugene handed the foxes over to human law enforcement.”
She knotted her fists. “No.”
“He did, and there’s nothing you can do about it now.” Elizabeth took a sip of her tea, then put her cup down with exaggerated care. “It was for the best.”
“For the best? Letting the humans execute Louisa Smith and the foxes is for the best? Tell me, Elizabeth, why you believe that.”
“The Annex is making strides. We have to think of the greater good, Rune. In the end, the sacrifices we make today will gain us Other equality in the future.”
Rune shook her head at Elizabeth’s acceptance. “Eugene has killed the foxes to appease the humans. You’re fucking telling me you think he’s right?”
Elizabeth didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Rune looked at Rice. “You, too?”
“The foxes did abduct and torture humans. The humans died. We can’t allow them to walk away. You know better than that, Rune.”
She shoved her chair back and stood. “You’re not saving Others. You’re killing them.” At the door, she turned back. “We were in the middle of a case and they were witnesses. At the very fucking least, you could have waited until we found Megan.” And even if they did find her, she’d have to be told her family was dead.
“Go get some sleep,” Rice told her. “You’re not thinking straight.”
“Today was difficult for her,” Elizabeth murmured.
“Yes,” Bill agreed, “but that doesn’t—”
“Mom. Dad,” Rune interrupted. “Call me with updates.” Then she strode away, leaving them to their discussion.
She stuck her head in Ellie’s office, but the lights were off. He’d already gone home. She couldn’t wait to get to her own house. There were a million things to do and think about and worry over, but she had to let them go for a while.
She punched in Strad’s number on her way to her car. “I’m heading home,” she said, when he answered.
“I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
She’d showered and grabbed a change of clothes from her locker after the shifter had covered her with sick, and she was ready for some more coffee, a soft bed, and the berserker’s blood.
Her mind was tired and her heart was heavy. If she didn’t let the bad stuff go for a few hours, she’d crumble under the weight of it.
Rune began to relax as soon as she walked through the door.
Lex sat at the kitchen table with Levi, who was nursing a bottle of beer. Denim stood at the sink, wearing a frilly apron, washing a plate. The house smelled of vanilla and coffee.
Rune smiled. “Are there cookies?”
Denim winked and pointed his chin at the oven. “Freshly baked. And the coffee’s hot. Unless you want milk?”
Rune lifted an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
He shrugged. “You drink too much coffee.”
Lex laughed. “You face monsters every day and he’s worried about your caffeine intake.”
&
nbsp; Rune poured herself a cup of coffee, piled half a dozen warm cookies on a napkin, and went to sit at the table with Lex and Levi.
“Everybody good?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Levi answered. He didn’t look at her. “You doing okay?”
“I am. Levi…” But she didn’t know what to say.
“We heard about Gunnar,” he said, when she gazed at her cookies, unable to find her words.
“He’ll be okay, I guess. He’s talking about moving away, though.”
“What?” Lex folded her arms. “No way. We’re not letting that skinny freak go anywhere.”
“I’ll take him a case of Baby Ruth candy bars tomorrow. If he can’t take them with him, that’ll make him stay for a while longer.” She wasn’t entirely joking.
“What made you put Owen in the hospital?” Levi asked, the question so abrupt and unexpected she could only stare at him.
Finally, she put her cookie down. “Because he surprised me. Because I’m not over COS yet. I still see them when I close my eyes. And sometimes…”
“You have flashbacks,” he whispered.
“Yeah. I guess.”
No one said anything for a moment. Denim joined them at the table, coffee in hand. She heard the front door open, and knew Strad had arrived.
“Just don’t sneak up on me,” she told them. When she looked up, the berserker was standing the kitchen doorway, and Owen was at his side.
She stood. “Owen.”
He gave her wink. “You didn’t hurt me that badly.” But he moved gingerly when he walked to the table and pulled out a chair. “And I’m full of painkillers.”
“Where are Raze and Jack?” she asked. “Anyone heard from them?”
“Raze said he had something to do,” Lex said, her eyes jerking. “He didn’t say what, and I didn’t ask him.”
Rune lifted at eyebrow at Lex’s defensive tone.
“Jack dropped me off here when I broke out of the Annex hospital,” Owen said. “He was heading home.” His expression was clear and innocent. Too innocent, maybe. “You got room here for me for a couple days, until I get back to normal?”
She couldn’t say no—she’d been the one to wound him. And he knew that. She looked at Strad, who was staring at Owen with narrowed eyes and a displeased frown.
